Beyond the Walls

Chapter 39

"I can practically feel him breathing down my neck," I say, rolling eyes and throwing the door open. We file into the apartment. Dust swirls at our feet and I slam the door behind me, blocking it from invading the room. "I hope we will begin assembling the troops to become one army."

King Wright ignores me as he waltzes into the room so gracefully he appears to glide over the floorboards. He approaches the mouldy bookshelf that once belonged to my mother and runs his eyes along the remaining tattered titles. He then grips his hands behind his back and circles the apartment, crossing into my parents' bedroom and into the kitchen. Wright opens the kitchen tap and flinches at the water that gushes from the rusting head.

I catch Ruben's wary gaze on him, mirroring my own.

"So, this is the infamous Elle Fallon's home, is it?" King Wright finally speaks, turning his piercing eyes to mine.

"Welcome. It would have been nice if my parents and Isabelle were still here, though."

"I am sure their spirit is still within these walls, utterly proud of you," Wright says, his kind words startling me, and I bite my tongue to stop the tears springing to my eyes.

"I hope so," I whisper before giving my head a little shake. "Where are your soldiers?"

"In the forest by the walls, they have gathered in wait," he says. "They are happy to set up camp there."

"We don't have potable water at the moment," Ruben says, and places the kettle over the stove, igniting the hob. "I'm sure Ajax could rustle up somewhere across the river for you to stay."

"We're in a lockdown," I explain. "We have the new strain in the city. People have been catching it since Edward brought it over, we believe via a Mercuree bird."

"With Edward forthcoming, I would say it is safest for your people to be tucked away in their homes," King Wright says.

The kettle whistles, and Ruben removes it from the stove and pours the steaming water into three mugs. The passive scent of green tea and jasmine wafts towards us and I inhale the earthy warmth. Once the tea brews, he delivers the mugs to us. I grip mine with both hands, allowing the boiling heat to sear my icy fingers.

"I wonder if my mother is here," Ruben says, peering into the green tea.

"She is the founder of the wilderness tribe, is she?" Wright asks.

"Yes. We call them the Untamed."

"They arrived shortly after we did," Wright says, gulping his tea. "I believe their warriors are conversing with my soldiers."

Ruben makes a strange noise and throws his tea down. "We must go then. My mother might be here, Elle."

Struggling to imagine Mae in the Floodgates, I grab my sheathed sword, shrugging it on. I tuck my trusty dagger into my belt and brush my curls out of my face.

We exit the apartment and emerge out of the building into the silent street in the middle of the day. The cloud cover creates a white sheet of light over the city, and I squint despite the forthcoming rain. I catch the odd nosy pair of eyes peering at us through kitchen windows as we hasten through the streets and around corners. The cobbles morph into grass and roots as the shadows in the trees beckon us deeper into their arms. Although Ruben and I are all too familiar with the forest, we allow King Wright to lead us to his troops and the Untamed.

Eventually, I pick up the distinct murmur of chatter and movement through the thick trees. Ruben instinctively picks up his pace and we find ourselves in a path of thinner trees. King Wright's soldiers scatter the visible landscape, at least one hundred of them. They pour into the forest, distinguished by their yellow backs of their otherwise grey uniform. They pitch tents, gather around hopeful fires, cooking squirrels and drinking from their flask and laughing. Some train with one another. But many of them mingle with a certain rugged group of people, characterised by the red mark smeared from their browbone to beneath their eye.